


You Protect Me from Everything, But You're What's Gonna Ruin Me

by jbsullivan17



Series: Prompt Fills [4]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, Alternate Universe - Royalty, F/M, Guard Bellamy Blake, Princess Clarke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-08 20:43:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12261720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jbsullivan17/pseuds/jbsullivan17
Summary: ROYALS AUThis was supposed to be a prompt but I misread the prompt and it's too late to go back so here's this modern/ Victorian royals au thing...





	You Protect Me from Everything, But You're What's Gonna Ruin Me

**Author's Note:**

> ROYALS AU
> 
> This was supposed to be a prompt but I misread the prompt and it's too late to go back so here's this modern/ Victorian royals au thing...

Bellamy has bad teeth. Okay, to be fair, they’re not _bad_ exactly, he’d probably have amazing, non-sensitive teeth if his nervous tick wasn’t squeezing his jaw painfully shut, but it’s basically his response to everything that wasn’t Octavia or funny.

He was serving in the citadel this time last year, hoping to one day become a maester and learn all the knowledge of the kingdom for himself. Turned out General Kane had bigger plans for him than rewriting ledgers and doing research the rest of his life. His nervous tick had the air of defiance that was needed in the militia. Bellamy pushed down the bile that rose in his throat while he agreed and Kane brought him to training two days later. They were a few miles outside the capitol and on clear days, he could see the castle’s spire.

“Blake,” Kane called six months into training during dinner, Bellamy’s mouth full of bread and beans.

“Sir,” he answered after swallowing.

“You and Miller are with me tomorrow, into the city.”

“Yes, sir,” Bellamy nodded.

Bellamy had heard the stories of Polis from the farmers and tradesmen of his village, it’s chaotic, snakes and ghosts thieving about, picking their prey. He’d thought they were trying to scare the kids but the moment he and Miller stepped into the city center with all the merchants and customers, Bellamy knew they were only telling the truth.

There were too many people, he determined within seconds of being there. They moved quickly and it was nearly impossible to keep your eyes on any specific person for longer than five seconds because they’d disappear behind two people and it wasn’t worth the hassle. Add the cloaks and it was impossible.

His eyes kept finding a faded dark blue cloak, gravitating towards it with no reason. He hadn’t even liked the color blue, favoring red. The cloak shifted, the hood falling to reveal a pale girl with a braid over her shoulder, she was pushing through the crowd, eyes locked on a guy almost to Bellamy and he’d figured out the situation just before his hand reached out and clutched the man’s forearm, halting him. “Give it back,” he demanded as the blonde beauty came up to them, panting after fighting through the crowd.

“Or what?”

Bellamy looked to the girl expectantly, finally getting a good look at her, she’s gorgeous with stunning blue eyes that captivated him.

“Or you’ll be charged with treason,” Kane said, turning around and watching the situation at hand.

Realization overwhelmed the thief’s features and Bellamy was lost as to how stealing from this woman could possibly be cause for treason. The thief gave her back her satchel with a bow, “My apologies, your Highness.” And everything snapped into place for Bellamy, his jaw tightening. _Princess Clarke of Arkadia._

“Wait,” she called to him as he turned to leave. “I’d like to know where my gold was going,” she inquired and the thief glanced at Kane, Miller, and Bellamy before looking back to the princess.

“My mother is ill. My father died in the Badlands War last year and we can’t afford a doctor.”

“What’s your name?”

“Murphy. John Murphy.”

“John Murphy,” she nodded, looking to Kane who gave her a warning glance. “I’ll have the guards let you and your mother in to see Doctor Tsing.”

“Really?” he grimaced.

“Yes, but just a fair warning, if it isn’t your mother and she isn’t sick, you will both be arrested and charged with treason.”

Murphy nodded, “Thank you, your highness.”

Clarke nodded and looked to Kane. “General.”

“Clarke,” Kane said over Bellamy’s shoulder, breaking the spell as Clarke’s eyes shot to the man.

“Kane,” she nodded and Bellamy saw a hint of a smug smirk because she somehow knew he was refraining from reprimanding her. Bellamy thought he knew all of Kane’s expressions from the last six months of training, but seeing him with _the princess_ gave him a full bodied sense of the man’s presence.

“Does your mother know where you are?”

“If she did, would I be here?” she smirked, looking back to Bellamy.

“No, we’ll escort you back to the castle.”

Clarke nodded and Bellamy had a sense that he had no idea what he’d just walked into with this princess. She’s gorgeous, yet trouble.

“What were you thinking?” Kane asked her and Bellamy wondered who she really was to the General, it’s more than meets the eye.

Clarke, smiled mischievously, “I was _thinking_ that the spire was too stuffy and I needed to let my hair down.”

Bellamy scoffed at the Rapunzel reference but shut it down quicker than it came.

She eyed him and he kept walking. He’s not supposed to acknowledge others, he’s supposed to focus on how many threats there were in the street and calculate escape routes, but he didn’t know the city. He could only do half his job so it was a good thing that Nate said he’d cover that part of the task, born and raised in the city, son of a general.

“So, General Kane, what are you doing back in the city? Mother said you were training new soldiers.”

“I was, I’m bringing these two in for evaluation.”

“Evaluation?”

“Top of their class,” Kane told her and Bellamy grimaced, looking to Miller who just smiled as though he knew he would be.

“So you’re going to train them in Guard duties?”

“Only the best for the princess,” he smiled down at her.

Clarke grimaced, eyeing Bellamy from the corner of her eye. “Miller’s mine if he makes it through.”

Bellamy peeked at Miller next to him who was just looking around at everything going on around them, ignoring the current conversation, not even acknowledging his name.

“You don’t even know which is better.”

“I trust Miller,” she shrugged and walked ahead of them all and Kane groaned, letting it happen.

* * *

 

Once they got to the castle gate, the guards opened it immediately at the sight of Clarke and General Kane, neither looking him in the eyes.

Clarke gave them the order about John Murphy and his sickly mother before Kane pulled her along, back to the castle for the princess. “It wasn’t them,” she said simply.

Kane didn’t say anything, he didn’t have to because the moment they stepped into the castle a honey-haired woman in a long black cloak stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at the princess.

“I’m fine,” Clarke stated with attitude, reminding Bellamy of Octavia and their mother, meaning the honey-haired woman was none other than Queen Abigail.

“We will see about that,” Abigail said and turned to Kane. “General, what a wonderful surprise, we weren’t expecting you for another month.”

“Yes, well, these tow exceeded expectations so I brought them and thought Jake or Jaha might have an update on Alie.”

“No updates, but they’re in the war room. Lincoln is sleeping, he covered David’s shift last night.”

“Is he okay?” Miller pressed.

“Headache,” Abigail stated. “Show Officer…”

“Blake,” Bellamy answered. “Your majesty.”

“Show Officer Blake his quarters on your way to your father.”

Miller nodded and bowed before heading down a corridor, Bellamy imitating him before following.

“She’s intense,” Miller grimaced as Bellamy flanked him.

* * *

Two months later, Bellamy and Miller were training with Lincoln, they have three more days before they’re given their posts and Bellamy still didn’t know what he wanted to do. Miller’s going with the princess, that’s been decided before he’d even known why they were in the capitol. He’s fine with it… mostly, she’s not a bad sight to look at if you got rid of her combative personality.

It’s not that Bellamy didn’t know that he was a difficult person to get along with, he definitely did, it’s why he hand no friends back home, he wouldn’t even have Octavia if she weren’t his flesh and blood, but there was something about his free time when Clarke was around that they were both a force to be reckoned with _and_ simultaneously the worst pairing in the world.

Miller tapped out and as he stood, his gaze caught on something. “What’s she doing here?” he asked, Lincoln and Bellamy followed his gaze to the balcony where the princess sat, eyes scrolling across the open book in her lap.

“She’d never been here before,” Lincoln shrugged, heading to his chalice of water across the room. “Maybe she’s trying to figure out who’ll be on her team.”

“She’s made her preference clear.”

Miller cracked his neck, “She’s the king’s daughter, do you honestly believe they’re going to listen to her when her safety’s on the line?”

“You’ve been training your whole life,” Bellamy noted.

“Doesn’t mean I’m as good as you, you’re raw and you don’t have a pattern.”

“Who knew my erratic hotheadedness would ever come in handy?” Bellamy quipped. He took one last look at the princess, only to meet her gaze as she pursed her lips and went back to her book. “You think she heard us?” he asked Miller quietly.

“I don’t know, why don’t you go ask her?”

Bellamy grimaced at his friend/ competition, wondering what he was trying to insinuate.

“Your eyes gravitate to her, always searching the room to find her and keep a calculated distance away.”

“I’m a guard, I search the room for threats.”

“Your eyes linger a moment too long on her.”

Bellamy’s jaw tightened along with his fist and he wouldn’t be sparring if her took action against Miller’s goading, choosing instead to storm out with no reason and no destination in sight.

* * *

As his first official guard shift, Bellamy was to stand at Clarke’s door all night while she slept, checking on her every hour until morning.

The door opened behind him and he turned to the princess hidden beneath a large white nightgown. “I’m a light sleeper so if you could refrain from checking on me in the night, that’d be great because I’m fine and—“

“Is there a hidden passage in your room?”

Clarke blinked, “Of course.”

“Then you’re not fine. Don’t worry, princess, you won’t even know I’m there.”

Clarke rolled her eyes and slammed her door on him and Bellamy smirked, briefly looking over at the other guard at her door who grimaced at him.

“What?”

“You’re never going to last talking to her like that.”

“Princess and I came to an understanding my first day when I saved her ass in city center when _you_ lost her inside this castle. I’m protective to a fault.”

The guard, Mbege, gave him a wary look before standing back at attention.

An hour later it was time to check on her and he looked to Mbege who just stared ahead and Bellamy knew that he was the one that was going to be checking on her the whole night. He turned the doorknob and pushed the door two inches with a wailing squeal and Clarke looked at him with an indignant smirk on her face that said “I told you so” and Bellamy rolled his eyes, with the intent on fixing that tomorrow so every guard’s job was easier when it came to watching the dear princess.

“Good night, Princess,” he nodded and closed the door.

“You’re screwed,” Mbege said with a straight face and Bellamy grimaced, knowing he was certainly correct.

“Whatever, man.”

* * *

Bellamy sat at the table in the corner of the kitchen eating his lunch, Miller usually joined him after his morning shift at the gate but it was changed due to something with David. Bellamy was used to eating alone back home, so the silence was a welcome change to his routine.

Of course, like everything with Princess, it was fleeting as she took Miller’s seat with a slice of cheesecake Harper made for the night’s dessert.

“I heard you have a sister,” she said casually taking a bite.

Bellamy gaped at her in confusion momentarily before nodding, “Octavia.”

“I want to meet her.”

“She’s in Anglo.”

“You’re from Anglo?”

“Yes.”

“I get my clothes from Anglo… Zoe Monroe does. A, uh, Aurora?”

“That’s my mother,” Bellamy grimaced.

“I want to meet your mother too. To thank her.”

“You don’t—you pay her and that money puts food on the table, having them travel here is frivolous.”

“You don’t want to see them?”

Bellamy tightened his jaw, taking a slow breath through his nose. “That is _not_ the point. You want to bring them here to thank them? Write a letter, send a bonus for all her hard work, but _don’t_ request their presence here in the capitol!”

“Don’t you want to see them?”

“Of course I do, but this isn’t about me or them, it’s about you because all you ever think about is yourself.”

“I am not arguing with you, Bellamy, did you ever think that I’m trying to help? I was going to ask your sister to be one of my ladies. I was giving her a title, help her marry up and lead an easier life than she would in Anglo. Don’t you want that for her?”

“Of course,” he said grimly.

“I’d have your mother stay in one of the cottages on the outskirts on the property, she’d be able to come to and from town getting cloth for clothes and she’d get to see her children all the time,” she blinked as she stood and Bellamy’s heart ached, he knew he should say something, thank her and say yes, she can invite them, but there was an itch in the back of his head that said to wait and think about it more.

“Princess,” he called after her and she looked back. “Can I think about it?”

She nodded with a little smirk and tossed the plate in the sink, the cake unfinished.

Bellamy spent the rest of his day feeling like the biggest asshole in the world, waiting for his shift at eight to apologize.

* * *

It wasn’t that he didn’t like working through the night, forces to stay awake when his body was crashing into dreamland, it was that he was alone at her door. Apparently it’s the norm, one guard at the door except for the king and queen’s room because it’s two of them.

He’s done it before, back when the door still squealed, but that was fixed last week (finally) even though he loved getting her hateful glare (honestly, he’d have her give him the dirtiest looks as long as it meant he got to see the blue/silver shinning in her eyes), she didn’t sleep well through it and that’s what Bellamy hated about the night shift; he’s never seen her peacefully asleep... peacefully in general.

He nodded at Wick when eight came around and took his place, immediately knocking on her door because it was early enough for her to be indecent when he checked on her. No response. He knocked again, she could have been in her ridiculously huge closet and just not have heard him.

When there was still no response, he opened the door, hand on his gun strapped to his waist only to find her alone, her alabaster legs splayed wide across the bed with her fingers at the juncture there, with her other hand on one of her exposed breasts. Bellamy was frozen, not with fear (really?) but shock and fucking _awe_ , he knew she was beautiful—hell, he’ll say gorgeous—and he’d thought about what she’d sound like in the hate sex kind of way (he gets worked up over their arguments, they’re hot) but seeing her, hearing her caught breaths and jolted gasps and _moans_ , Bellamy could not move.

 _“Bellamy_ —“ she choked and Bellamy’s jaw dropped, she’s thinking of him..?

She moaned again through baited breath and Bellamy had to do something, he didn’t know what, if whether he should go and pretend this never happened, or aid her or just let her know he was there and let her decide. She’d want the last one and though he’s an asshole—lunch today being proof of that—he couldn’t do that twice in twelve hours.

“Princess,” he groaned, his voice impossibly low and choked out as Clarke’s eyes shot up and she went to cover herself. “It’s eight, the start of my shift.”

“Oh, right,” her face was a blistering red and Bellamy refrained from smiling or smirking or showing any sense of want because he does want, he has practically since he met her, but he’s in her hands, her care. He can’t do anything without her say so.

But no one ever said he wasn’t a gentleman, “Need some help?”

“I—we can’t.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t _want_.”

“You heard me, Blake, it’s not a secret anymore.”

“If you want it we can make it work.”

“Only on the nights you don’t work,” she said and Bellamy thought about it, the guards in the corridor, they couldn’t risk that.

“Right,” he nodded.

Clarke’s gaze rolled over him and he felt his erection pulse roughly against the seam of his pants as her eyes lingered there. “We’ll think of something.”

“Yeah, I should get back out there.”

* * *

Octavia and Aurora arrived two weeks later and Bellamy was happy to see them, even with Clarke being distant since that night and Miller’s constant pestering about his gloomy mood.

“Bell!” O squealed jumping into his arms, she’s nearly seventeen, but a child a heart and it broke Bellamy’s heart knowing that she’s going to dramatically change just from being here, he did.

“Hey, O,” he smiled, breathing in the homey scent of her hair while watching his skittish mom in the doorway. She’s nervous about the legitimacy issues with Bellamy and Octavia. They’ve all heard the stories and it was part of the reason Bellamy was skeptical about them coming.

Pulling away from his sister, he walked over to his mother and hugged her too. “Mom, relax.”

“Your father died for them,” she cried quietly, her words still echoing through the hall.

“Which war?” Bellamy heard a bright voice ask from a distance and he immediately knew it was her.

“Mecca,” he answered for his mother, even after twenty years, talking about his father was a hardship for her.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Blake,” she said coming down the stairs, he knew it was a power move, he’d watched her mother and father and Jaha do it plenty of times to know the maneuver and he thought Clarke was different.

“Mom, Octavia, this is Princess Clarke,” he introduced and they all shook hands, Bellamy holding Octavia back from hugging her, a little too overeager.

The ladies talked, Clarke leading them around the castle, settling into the gold room, about to ask if they wanted anything to eat or drink when Jaha called Bellamy to the war room and Bellamy left his two—three favorite women to their own devices.

* * *

“What the hell, Bellamy?” she asked storming into the kitchen while he ate dinner with a few other guards.

“Your highness?” he asked confused as to what she could possibly be angry about.

She looked at the other guards at the table and then to the door out to the stables and the cabin his mother and sister were staying in. “We need to talk. Outside,” she pointed.

Bellamy sighed, taking the last bite of his dinner and rolling his eyes walked out the door, holding it open for her. “What’s going on?”

“Half-sister?” she whisper/yelled.

“Yeah?”

“That’s why you didn’t want me to invite them, they’ll be... you should have told me!”

“I should have told you that my mother who was head over heels in love with my father was raped when I was six because some drunk asshole thought she was a whore? My father had died barely a year earlier, it’s... I’m supposed to tell you that?”

“People are going to talk.”

“And what they judge isn’t the reality of our lives,” he growled. “She’s an amazing mother who put aside her heartbreak to raise us no matter how we came into her life.” The look on Clarke’s face was sobering. He was protective of his family and didn’t take any shit from people when they find out and judge them on the darkest moment of their lives.

Aurora never let Octavia think for one moment of her life that she wasn’t wanted or loved because she was. No matter how she came into their lives, they loved her with all their hearts.

“I’m sorry,” Bellamy sighed, she didn’t deserve his anger and he should have told her about Octavia.

Clarke smiled softly and Bellamy wanted to touch her, he’s ached to touch her since that night he found her touching herself in her room, but hasn’t acted on it, he can’t, not without her say so. “Are you working tonight?”

“No,” he smiled.

“Who’s at my door tonight?”

“Wick I think.”

“Find out, he owes me a favor and if it’s him, tell him not to check in.”

“Clarke…”

“Wait in the green room, okay?”

“Clarke…” he pressed again.

“I’ve been trying not to want this, Bellamy, but I do and I don’t want to wait anymore.”

“Are you sure, we can’t come back from this.”

“I’ve ridden enough horses that they can’t tell.”

“God, talking about your hymen to turn a man on, that’s going to work so well,” Bellamy smirked and Clarke slapped his shoulder before laughing softly too.

“I like your family, they love you.”

“I love them too. Clarke, I’m going to be there because I’m dying to touch you right now, but I won’t be offended if you change your mind.”

Bellamy spent his afternoon with his mother and sister, showing them around the property, the stable, Jasper instantly fell in love with her and promised to teach her how to ride and Octavia wouldn’t stop talking about Helios, and his mother loved the lake.

He missed them more than he realized and wanted to thank Clarke when he sees her.

That night he snuck into the green room just before eight and he paced the floor between the two sofas. He didn’t know how long he was walking before he heard a knock on a wall and Clarke stumbled out from behind a bookshelf.

“I forgot how heavy that is,” she chuckled.

Bellamy smirked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, are you coming?” she smiled, but Bellamy could tell she was nervous.

“Clarke, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“No, Bellamy, I do. I just… it’s been a while.”

Bellamy nodded, knowing she wasn’t meaning sex at all, she meant being vulnerable with anyone. _She chose me,_ he thought, stepping closer to her.

She grabbed his hand, dragging him behind the bookshelf and it closed behind them as she dragged him through the small passage to her bedroom, popping out behind the painting next to her fireplace.

“That’s where it was?” he scoffed.

Clarke laughed, “Yeah.” She looked down and bit her lip, “Uh, what do you want to do?”

“Clarke—“

“I—Bellamy, the way you looked at me two weeks ago… I don’t know what you… I tried…”

“Before I knew who you were, I wanted you. I know I can never have you, not really.”

Clarke grimaced, shaking her head frantically. “I’m here and… and I was thinking about you.”

“You called out my name,” he smiled, pulling her into him.

“Because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” she smiled, her hand coming up to his shoulders, as she stroked the scar on his lip. “How?”

“Before I was a guard, or a soldier, I was working at the citadel in Makron. One of my first days there I was too excited, too eager for knowledge and a maester found me, he quite literally threw a book at me,” he smirked.

“You did nothing wrong though.”

“It wasn’t my job to read the texts, I cleaned.”

“Cleaned?”

“Yes, it was glamourous.”

Clarke laughed and tightened her grip on his shirt, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without armor on.”

“No?”

She shook her head and Bellamy was still holding back from touching her, he wanted to. _God,_ did he want to, but she’s in control, she has all the power and he can’t push her.

“I want to kiss you.”

“Clarke, you can do whatever you want,” he bit down on his teeth and tried restraining himself. “I’m supposed to know better.”

“I have it on record now,” she smiled and pushed up onto her tip toes and her nose grazed his as her breath washed over his cheek.

“Clarke,” he sighed, his lips a whisper on hers just before she closed the distance and Bellamy couldn’t hold back, he gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him, his lips moving with hers.

She took a step back, pulling him with her, fingers scraping against his scalp, tugging on his shaggy hair and after a while of following her back, she faltered and Bellamy caught her before realizing they were at her bed.

“Clarke…”

She smiled. “I want you, Bellamy. Will you…”

“I don’t… I want to, Princess, but I don’t know if I can.”

“It’d mean something.”

“I’m not afraid of it meaning something, I’m afraid of people finding out and what’ll happen to me and my family.”

“Nothing will happen because no one will know.”

“And what’ll happen when a prince shows up?” he asked before thinking that this was more than just one night, but he was certain that that’s exactly what it was.

“I’ll send them away.”

“You’re the only heir, Clarke, you can’t rule alone.”

“Once I take the crown I can marry whomever I want. If I run away, I can be whoever I want,” she smiled, spinning them and pushing him back on the mattress and crawled over him, his jaw tightening… _again_.

* * *

“I want Blake and Miller to come with me,” Clarke said a month later and Bellamy’s jaw locked.

“They’re the least experienced,” Kane informed.

“Be—Blake has fought before and Miller is a legacy and a friend, you raised us together.”

“No,” Queen Abigail said sternly, stifling her daughter’s warpath, Bellamy inwardly prepared for the onslaught her daughter is going to deal her. “We raised you and Wells together and if you’re not going to marry Wells, you’re going to marry Prince Finn. They’re sending escorts.”

“You’re going to trust one of the three nations we’ve feuded against within the last twenty years? We killed their king and their heir so to make amends you’re going to sell me to the _spare_.”

“Give you to the spare as a peace offering.”

“If you want me to go at all, you’re going to send me with Miller and Blake. They’re the only ones I trust.”

“You’re being ridiculous, Clarke!” King Thelonious called and King Jacob looked at him with a fearsome glare.

“No, I’m not. You’re sending the only heir to our kingdom away to be married off. You really think once you’re all gone that _Finn_ is going to treat our lands well? He’s not.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You’re handing him a navy, lord help us all when Mecca has the strongest army and navy forces. Miller and Blake or I’m staying right here.”

“Blake is unrefined,” King Jacob said and Kane opened his mouth to say something but Clarke cut in.

“And he beats every damn guard that goes up against him. He’s volatile and protective and loyal. I trust him more than anyone. I’m not going anywhere without him.”

King Jacob sighed and nodded, “Fine, Blake and Miller go with you.”

“Jake—“ Abby spat and Bellamy could see her hands shaking.

“My decision is final. You leave in three days.”

* * *

Clarke’s head laid on Bellamy’s shoulder as Miller drove the vehicle north to Mecca. They stopped three times for gas and once to sleep but they were on the last hour of the long, quiet journey, Clarke and Bellamy unable to be themselves with the watchful eyes of Miller, her head on his shoulder was nothing after her demand and complete loyalty to him four days ago.

“What’s going to happen?” she asked so quietly that Bellamy barely heard her.

“You marry your prince.”

“I don’t want him,” she said for what felt like the billionth time in five days, her voice breaking every time.

“I know.”

“What if we don’t go? What if we change cars and go somewhere no one knows who Princess Clarke Griffin of Arkadia is?”

“I don’t think that place exists, Princess,” he rubbed his thumb in a circular pattern over her shoulder, trying to soothe her, knowing it won’t because she’s too stressed about everything.

“Would you ever try looking?”

“Of course,” he squeezed her shoulder. “I—“

“I know.”

Bellamy nodded, turning his head to place a quick kiss on the crown of her head.

Clarke twisted and turned next to him and before he knew it, she was straddling him, pressing herself against every part of him she could while kissing him urgently.

“Clarke,” he pushed her away, locking eyes with Miller in the rear view mirror.

“Princess can’t have what she wants?” she soured and Bellamy sighed, because all he wants is to give her the world.

“You can have the fucking world, babe, but you have to be upfront about it.”

She sighed, falling back into her own seat and leaned against the window.

That was the end of the conversation.

* * *

Bellamy and Miller walked into the palace behind Clarke, Bellamy’s face was steeled and Miller didn’t acknowledge what happened in the car and he wasn’t certain he ever would, its enigma Miller.

“Princess Clarke,” they heard and Clarke came to a complete stop.

King Finn of Mecca stood in the center of the room, his black floppy hair adorned with a crown and a disgustingly charming smile on his face that Bellamy itched to punch, his jaw contracting.

They all bowed and Clarke said, “Your highness.”

“Welcome to Mecca. I bet you’re all hungry, let’s go eat.”

Bellamy spent a week watching Clarke and Finn together, he flirted and she didn’t stop him. He fucking _kissed_ her.

“I can’t do this,” he said to her in the rose garden. He was pacing and Miller stood further back, keeping watch.

“Neither can I, Bellamy. I want you, I’ve told you that, being here with him doesn’t change that.”

“He kissed you.”

“And it meant nothing to me. Okay? We’ll leave tomorrow and… my dad’s always been on my side and Kane considers you his second. I—I can probably convince them to let us marry. That you’d be a great king.”

“A rebel king,” Bellamy growled and it wasn’t necessary and she didn’t deserve it.

“Because you’re not of regal blood? It’s just blood, Bellamy.”

“I know, it’s just… I wouldn’t be a good leader.”

“That’s yet to be proven, we’re stronger together, you know that.”

Bellamy couldn’t say anything, he knew she’d do whatever she had to to get what she wants and she wants him, he can’t fight her on that. She closed the distance between them and kissed him, slow and passionate and he swore she only pulled away so she could go tell Finn they were leaving.

* * *

“Dad,” she said, walking into his office, Bellamy on her tail. “I need to talk to you.”

“Bellamy,” he nodded.

“He’s going to stay for this.”

“Okay,” Jake grimaced and Bellamy held back while Clarke stood at her father’s desk.

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

“Do you trust my judgement?”

“Clarke what is this about?”

“I—“ she looked back to Bellamy for reassurance and he felt Jake’s eyes on him so he didn’t move, but he knew she knew he wanted to. “I’m in love with Bellamy. I want to marry him.”

“Marry him, not Finn?”

“Bellamy or no one. I can rule this kingdom alone if it comes down to it.”

“I know. I have faith in you. Bellamy, do you feel the same way?”

“Yes, your highness,” Bellamy nodded once.

“Okay, I’ll talk to Kane, he’ll be the easiest to convince. Then Abby and finally Thelonious.”

“He wanted me to marry Wells,” Clarke said and Bellamy heard the anger in her voice.

“You were okay with marrying Wells, but that’s not a reality anymore. You were okay with marrying Finn until just now.”

“No, I was never okay with marrying Finn. I knew it would appease Mom, but I never wanted to go through with it because I was already in love with Bellamy. Being in Mecca…” Clarke shook her head and Bellamy rested his hand on her shoulder, soothing her. “It was torture for us.”

“That’s why you came back early.”

“Yes, I—I thought about running away and I almost did… _we_ almost did, but this is my country, this is my duty.”

Jake nodded. I’ll talk to Kane.”

* * *

“What do you want to do?” he heard from the bed behind him as he stood at the window looking out over the ocean. The sun was setting and he didn’t even know how much time had passed.

He smiled, turning to her, the sun hitting her bare skin beautifully. _If only she could paint this_ , he thought for a moment. “You are so beautiful.” He walked back to the bed and leaned over her, pressing a kiss to her lips.

Clarke chuckled against his lips, of course she did, he was being corny. “How long do you think they’ll give us?”

Bellamy hummed, “They scheduled your coronation for three weeks, so maybe two.”

“That’s what you said two weeks ago.”

He groaned, “Today then, maybe tomorrow.”

Clarke gave him a look he’s gotten too accustomed to in the last eighteen months. “I haven’t been this happy in… I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”

“Your father is very convincing.”

“No, that was all you. You proved to them that you’d do anything to protect me, you nearly died for me,” her fingers drew circles over the scar just under his collarbone.

“Oh, so it was nearly die for you or never get to see you again? _Awesome!_ I totally have your parents on my side.”

“Mm, keep talking about them and you’ll never put an heir in me. My parents?”

Bellamy laughed, his fingers trailing down her sides teasingly before placing his fingers on her sex and Clarke gasped. “Hm,” Bellamy smirked. “You seem good to go to me.”

“Don’t tease me, Rebel King, this is still my kingdom.”

Bellamy kissed her neck, nipping a little, “You’re always going to be my princess.”

“I love you, husband.”

“I love you, wife.”

**Author's Note:**

> So I may have a thing for Bellamy/Bob Morley's jaw when he gets a little pissy and there's that little muscle that jumps or whatever it does... yeah, it's hot!
> 
> As always, if you have a prompt you'd like me to fill, [click here](http://thebellarkeofitall.tumblr.com/) or drop a prompt in the comments, both are cool with me. Super stoked on this next one


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